


My life. My choice

by smkkbert



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Felicity Smoak Death, olicity angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 19:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6127735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smkkbert/pseuds/smkkbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous said: Felicity dying prompt: Felicity is terminally ill and doesn’t tell anybody. Which explains why she always said “My life, my choice,” because if she was gonna eventually be gone, then why not make the most and help save peoples lives? Also why she wanted to help Team Arrow despite being miles away in Ivy Town trying to live a normal life. Felicity doesn’t tell anyone and they all find out after the fact. Oliver is predictably shutting down any form of help, Diggle is trying to keep strong for the both of them, but breaks down at home in Sara’s nursery while Lyla is away for a job. Both Thea and Laurel don’t know what to do, say, or feel, since they both haven’t known Felicity that long. Somebody contacts Roy and he comes back from the “dead” for Felicity’s funeral, that Oliver doesn’t show up to because he doesn’t want to admit that she’s gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My life. My choice

_It’s nothing; it’s just a headache._

He had come home from the office to find her lying on the couch, wrapped into a blanket. He had thought she was dozing because her eyes had been closed and her breathing had been so regularly. So he had quietly walked to the couch and kissed her forehead lovingly, hoping it wouldn’t wake her but at least make her know subconsciously that he was home. To his surprise she had opened her eyes, though.

_It’s nothing; it’s just a headache._

Only then he had noticed that her face had been pale, her eyes tired. He had put his hand to her cheek, stroking the soft skin. He had leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, checking if she was running a fever, but it hadn’t seemed like it. So he had asked her if something was wrong.

_It’s nothing; it’s just a headache._

That had been her answer. She had said it with a smile, straightened up and pressed her lips to his shortly. Her fingers had played with the short hair at the back of his neck when she had pulled back and stated that she was tired and needed some rest. He had asked her if she needed anything, and she had shaken her head and explained that she just wanted to go lie down upstairs and sleep a little.

_It’s nothing; it’s just a headache._

He had kissed her once more and told her that he would make her the special chicken soup for being sick, and she had smiled and told him how much she loved him. He had said those words back, and added that in only few days, when they would finally get married, he’d be all hers officially. They had smiled at each other for a moment, kissed once more, and he had once again asked if she was really okay, but Felicity had given him the same response as before and headed upstairs.

_It’s nothing; it’s just a headache._

Oliver had left to buy the ingredients for the soup. He had cooked it, taking his time to give Felicity more time to rest. And only when she had been resting for almost five hours, he had filled a small bowl with some of the soup, taken a spoon and gone upstairs. Felicity had been lying under the blanket immovably. Too immovably he had realized.

_It’s nothing; it’s just a headache._

There had been no breathing. Her heart hadn’t been beating. He had tried to shake her awake, but it had had no influence on her. Her eyes hadn’t opened. Her heart hadn’t magically started beating again, and her lungs hadn’t filled with new air.

_It’s nothing; it’s just a headache._

Only that it hadn’t been just a headache.  
And Felicity was dead.

 

 

Laurel watched helplessly how her father rocked a crying Donna back and forth in his arms, kissing her head and whispering words of comfort into her ear. For a split second Laurel wondered where she had seen a scene like that before, and her first instinct told her that she must have seen it during some work-related occasion because as a lawyer and state attorney you sometimes saw terrible, heart-wrenching things like that. Then it hit her.

She might have seen a scene like this before because of her job, but the reason it actually hit so close to home was because a few years ago her father had held her mother like that when they had tried to comfort each other after they had lost their daughter. That had been when she had seen this. When Sara had died on the Gambit.

Donna had lost a daughter. She had lost part of her family, the only blood relative she had had left if Laurel remembered correctly.

Laurel remembered how losing Sara for the second time had felt, and how she had found an unconventional way to grieve by becoming the Black Canary. She wouldn’t have been able to do that without Felicity. She had been the one to advise her to be herself and not try to be her sister. Felicity had barely known her back then, and still she had helped and supported her no matter what. For that she would always owe her something. Felicity had been a good person, better than most of the people Laurel knew.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked Donna quietly.

Her father looked at her over his girlfriend’s head, barely visibly shaking his head, so Laurel just nodded.

She felt out of place here. She had felt out of place in her own apartment with a sleeping Thea, and she had felt out of place before at the loft with John and Oliver.

Oliver. She had never seen him like when she had arrived at the loft. She couldn’t even fathom how deeply hurt he had to be. She remembered how much it had hurt when Tommy had died. But Tommy and she had been broken up unlike Oliver and Felicity, who had been planning on getting married in only a few days. They had been planning their joint future together. Laurel knew that there had been talks about buying a house and having babies between the two of them because Felicity had told her about that.

And now she was gone.

Laurel turned around and took a step towards the hallway. She didn’t know where she wanted to go. Maybe she would go back to her apartment and check if Thea was alright. When Laurel had left, her friend had been asleep due to the sleeping pills she had taken. Maybe when she woke up, there was something Laurel could do to comfort her. She just… Laurel just needed to do something. She couldn’t sit here and do nothing, and she felt like she was bothering when she stood here, watching Donna cry over the loss of her only daughter.

She had just reached the door when she heard shuffling of clothes, and a moment later a sobbing voice said her name. “Laurel?”

Immediately she turned around, looking at Donna. Her hand was still holding onto the lapels of her boyfriend’s jacket, but she had lifted her head from Quentin’s shoulder to look at Laurel. Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet and her make-up smeared.

“Your father told me you have been with Oliver after… it happened?”

Laurel nodded. “John called me when he arrived. I took Thea home. She needed to rest. I think John is still with Oliver, though.”

“I should probably go see him and-“

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Quentin interrupted his girlfriend, putting an arm around her waist and keeping her from getting up and walking away.

“But we… we have to… we have to plan the… the…” Donna started, but it ended in a sob, and she buried her face in her hands, starting to cry all over again.

“There is still time for that,” Quentin said gently. “The hospital is still busy trying to figure out what caused her death.”

“And I don’t think Oliver is able to plan anything,” Laurel added with whispered voice. “He wasn’t… He was… He is quite out of himself. Understandably.”

“Then maybe-“ Donna sobbed, and lifted her face from her hands again. “Maybe I should go see him. He shouldn’t… he shouldn’t be alone now.”

“He’s not alone,” Quentin reminded gently. “John Diggle is with him. And I think we should give him some space.”

“But I mean… I should… I need to… I can’t do this alone.”

Donna’s head dropped back onto Quentin’s shoulder with a sob. Her body was shaking from crying, and Laurel had to swallow hard to keep the tears that were welling in her eyes from falling. Taking a deep breath, she got up from the armchair and sat down on Donna’s other side, putting a comforting hand to her shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Laurel explained, and when Donna lifted her head from Quentin’s shoulder and looked at her with questioning eyes, Laurel tried her best to smile comfortingly, “because you are not alone.”

Donna smiled slightly through her tears, loosening one hand from the lapel of Quentin’s jacket and reaching it out for Laurel, who took the hand between both of hers and squeezed it comfortingly.

“Thank you, Laurel.”

“Felicity was my friend,” Laurel explained, trying to push away the memories of the last evening she had spent with Felicity joking about how with their parents dating each other they actually were kind of sisters. “It’s the least I can do. I just have to go and check on Thea first. As soon as I am back we can…plan.”

Donna nodded and reached both of her arms out to hug Laurel, again whispering, “Thank you, Laurel.”

Laurel felt her throat starting to burn and her eyes welling up with tears. She had cried some tears when she had arrived at the apartment, but she had swallowed her grief for Thea’s and Oliver’s sake because they had needed support more than she had. And now Donna needed her support.

So Laurel took deep breaths – in through her nose and out through her mouth, in through her nose and out through her mouth. She felt her heartbeat slowing down a little, but it didn’t keep the tears from streaming down her face.

 

 

Thea took deep breaths – in through her nose and out through her mouth, in through her nose and out through her mouth. She felt her heartbeat slowing down a little, but it didn’t keep the tears from streaming down her face.

She didn’t know how long she had been crying by now. It had probably been hours, but if felt like days. And it had made her tired, so unbelievably tired. Her eyes were burning with the need to close. But she didn’t dare to. She didn’t dare to close her eyes because in the little time she had slept after taking the sleeping pills, the memories that were haunting her while she was awake, had completely taken over her while she had been asleep.

It had been like it had happened all over again.

So she wouldn’t sleep again. She just… she would just sit here and take deep breaths and try to get those memories off her mind.

All she had wanted to do was to discuss a few things with Felicity about her bachelor’s party. There had been a few details about the evening Thea had had planned out for her future sister-in-law that she had wanted to agree upon with her to make it would really be the perfect evening for her. But despite having agreed on a time to meet at the penthouse, nobody had opened the door. So she had used her emergency key, and opened the door with her hand over her eyes, calling out for her brother and his fiancée to get dressed because she would come in now and didn’t need a repetition of one of the many times she had walked in on them.

A quiet laughter broke through her next sob.

God, she couldn’t count how many times she had walked in on her brother and his fiancée having sex. Especially the lair had been a place they had seemed to misuse for their pleasure relatively often, and Laurel, John and she herself had always groaned about it because knowing in the back of their minds what they did was just different from actually seeing it. Seeing it was just disgusting.

Well, it had been disgusted, Thea thought, now sobbing again. Now she would give everything to see it one more time because although seeing her brother having sex was still disgusting, it was so much better than seeing him as beaten and as broken as she had seen him.

She had called out their names again and again, already wondering if Felicity might have forgotten that they had been supposed to meet. But she had refused to believe that Felicity would stand her up and had gone upstairs. She had just reached the head of the stairs when she had heard her brother’s whispered voice.

“Ollie, better get dressed now because I am coming in,” Thea had called out, slowly walking over to her brother’s bedroom to give him the time he eventually needed to indeed get dressed. “Okay, I am coming in now.”

She had pushed the door that had been left ajar before open and her breathing had stopped at the sight she had been met with.

Her brother had been kneeling on the floor, counting with whispered voice how often his hands had already pressed down on Felicity’s chest. He had been out of breath, sweat dripping from his skin and soaking his clothes. Felicity’s skin had been pale, even paler than it had been when she had been in the hospital after Darhk had shot her.

“Thea!” he had choked out. “Call the ambulance. I can’t- I can’t stop here. She will die otherwise.”

Thea didn’t remember how long she had just stood there and stared at her brother trying to revive a presumably already dead Felicity.

“Ollie…” she had whispered.

But he had yelled at her, telling her to call the ambulance before it was too late for her. So she had called the ambulance.

Thea took in a sniffling breath, got up from the bed and started walking up and down on wobbly legs. She needed to get that off her mind. She needed to get those images off her thoughts.

She should have stayed with Oliver. She should have stayed with him and be there for him. He had just lost the love of his life, the woman he had wanted to get married to next week. After losing their parents and his best friend since childhood and so many other people he had now lost her. He had to be so desperate.

Well, trying to revive your fiancée for more than an hour when she had been dead for hours before probably proved how desperate he had to be.

Her legs gave in and with a sob Thea fell to the ground, hiding her face in her hands and starting to cry all over again.

When the medics had arrived, Oliver had told them that he had gone upstairs to bring Felicity soup around six p.m., almost one and a half hours before. There had been nothing they had been able to do for her. She had been long dead.

Oliver would never get over this. How was he supposed to?

Felicity was dead.  
The woman Ollie had wanted to get married to was dead.  
The woman who had, despite mourning the man she had loved herself, had helped her to get through the loss of her brother after he had joined the League of assassins was dead.

Why? Why had she died? Why Felicity? And why now?

After all the catastrophes of the last months the day of her and Ollie’s wedding had finally been within their reaches. They had barely talked about anything other than the day that they would get married and the two weeks of honeymoon on Bali they had been planning on right after their wedding. The two of them had been so happy, and everyone had been happy for them.

Ollie would have deserved this. He would have deserved this happiness.

And in some way Thea wanted to believe that she would have deserved it, too. With Ollie and Felicity getting married she had hoped for a new family life. She had hoped for a chance of some normality.

And now Ollie was suffering so much more than she had ever seen him suffer. When the person you loved died, it broke you in a lot of ways.

Thea crawled to her nightstand, grabbed her phone from the top of it and dialed a number she had sworn to herself she was never going to call again to not break her heart again and again. But given what had happened Thea didn’t care. Her hands were shaking, and she needed three tries before she was able to dial the right numbers, but eventually she heard the dialing tone and pressed her phone to her ear, taking deep breaths in a weak try to calm down her breathing.

“Hello?”

“Roy?” she asked immediately, and was already taking in a breath to say something more, but a loud sob left her lips and made it impossible to speak.

“Thea?” Roy asked worriedly. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Thea tried to speak. She tried to tell him what had happened, but she couldn’t get the words out. Roy and Felicity had been friends. How was she supposed to tell Roy that a friend of his had died? How was she going to tell him on the phone?

“Thea, what happened?” Roy asked again.

She took a deep breath, gathering all the strength and courage she had left after those hours of crying and finally said, “It’s Felicity. She’s dead.”

There was a long time of silence that made Thea wonder if Roy had actually heard her. She didn’t know if she could get herself to say those words again, but if Roy hadn’t understood the first time, maybe she would be forced to repeat herself.

“I am on my way.”

“Thank you,” Thea whispered, ending the phone call and wrapping her arms around her legs, slowly rocking herself back and forth.

Thea squeezed her eyes shut and rested her face in her hands for a short moment. When she wiped her tears away, she took in deep breaths. She needed to regain her self-control. Falling apart wasn’t going to help.

 

 

John squeezed his eyes shut and rested his face in his hands for a short moment. When he wiped her tears away, he took in deep breaths. He needed to regain his self-control. Falling apart wasn’t going to help him. And it certainly wasn’t going to help Oliver.

Leaning down, he splashed some cold water into his face. He blindly grabbed a towel, dried his face and looked into the mirror.

He looked like crap which was actually how he felt, too.

He still couldn’t believe it.

Felicity Smoak, one of the strongest people on the planet, had died. Just died.

As soon as he had gotten Thea’s call, he had gotten into his car and driven here and what he had seen still made his throat burning and tears welling up in his eyes.

Felicity had been all pale. He had seen the livor mortis on parts of her arms. All life had been sucked out of her. The woman he had considered his little sister for the last years had been dead, and the sight of her dead body had almost carried him off his feet. He had felt the need to sit down, bury his face in his hands and cry.

But seeing Oliver and Thea had kept him from doing so.

Oliver had held his head pressed to Felicity’s chest, crying and desperately calling out her name between sobs. A police officer had tried to explain to him that he needed to let her go, so they could get her to the morgue, but Oliver hadn’t listened. Thea had been kneeling on the floor, crying as well. One of the medics had handed her a glass of water, and she had lifted it to her lips, but her hands had shaken so much that she had barely been able to take a nip.

John had crouched down next to Oliver, putting a hand to his brother’s shoulder.

“Oliver,” he had whispered, his voice almost breaking. “Oliver, they need to get her to the morgue.”

But Oliver had shaken his head and tightened his hold on Felicity’s lifeless body. He had been unable to let go. Because how was someone supposed to let go of the person they had planned on spending the rest of their life with when the rest of their life hadn’t even started yet?

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing to regain his self-control.

When they had taken Felicity’s body away, John had held Oliver back with all of his strength, keeping him from going right at their throats for taking Felicity’s dead body away from him. It hadn’t been until Oliver had watched the hearse turning into the next street on the right that he had stopped fighting him.

Ever since, he had been silent and motionless. He was sitting on the couch, staring into the empty space. He didn’t talk. He didn’t move. If it wasn’t for the even rising and falling of his chest one could easily believe he was dead.

A few hours after this state had begun, Laurel had taken Thea home. The young woman had been so shaken by her brother’s reaction to his fiancée’s death that Laurel and he had agreed it was better for her to not be here right now.

And it didn’t seem like there was anything they could do for Oliver anyway. They just couldn’t leave him alone, no matter how little he seemed to want company.

John took another deep breath before he left the bathroom and headed back to the living room where Oliver was of course still sitting like he had been sitting all for the last three days, only interrupted for the short times that he had been in the bathroom or gotten to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. He had barely eaten since… it had happened.

John was more than worried about his friend. His behavior wasn’t healthy. And yet it was understandable.

If John only imagined loosing Lyla…

He couldn’t go there.

“Laurel called,” John said carefully, waiting for a reaction of his friend, but Oliver stayed motionless. “She has helped Donna planning the funeral. If you want to, they can come here and discuss a few things with you, checking if you agree to what they have planned.”

John’s voice was only a whisper. He knew that if he spoke any of this out loud, his voice would break. He waited for Oliver to react, but still his friend kept staring into the empty space like he wasn’t aware that he was talking to him.

“As far as I know they planned a classic Jewish funeral. But maybe there are any alterations that-“

“I want to be alone.”

He resisted the urge to reply immediately and instead took his time to consider what to say. It was the first time Oliver had talked since Felicity’s body had been taken away. And even though it weren’t any of the words John had hoped for it were some he had expected.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Oliver.”

“You have a wife and a kid,” Oliver said without looking at him. “You should be with them.”

John swallowed hard and took a deep breath. He missed Lyla and Sara. And even though he knew Lyla wouldn’t be home because she had left this morning for some really important mission that she had stated would hopefully save thousands of lives he needed to be home and at least see Sara. If Felicity’s death had proven anything then that no matter how save they tried to keep themselves, death could still find its way into their lives.

“Are you sure I can leave you alone?”

“Sure,” Oliver whispered, still not looking at him.

But John wasn’t so sure of that. “Can you promise me something?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t do anything to yourself,” John whispered. “For Thea. She needs you.”

Only now did Oliver turn his head, looking at his friend for the first time. His eyes showed barely any expression. There was no sadness in them, no anger. Nothing.

“For Thea,” Oliver whispered with a nod.

It was enough for John. Oliver had always felt responsible for his sister, and he knew how much she needed him. It had to be enough to keep him from doing anything to himself. If he really wanted to kill himself, John doubted that anything or anyone could stop him from doing so anyway.

“Call me when you need anything. No matter what time,” John offered his support once more, but Oliver just leaned back into the cushions and started staring into the empty space again. “I’ll call you later. If you don’t pick up, I’ll be right back. Otherwise I come back tomorrow.”

No reaction. Again.

“Bye.”

During his drive home John tried to figure out how he could be there for his friend. There needed to be something he could do to help him getting through this. But what would that be?

John had no idea how he made it home. One second he was getting into the car, the next he was opening the front door to his home. He sent the nanny home for the night, thanking her for her support in the last days, and headed, as soon as the door had fallen shut behind her, upstairs towards Sara’s nursery.

He watched his daughter sleeping soundly in her bed.

Last week Felicity and Oliver had come by for dinner, and Sara had started crying, so Felicity had headed upstairs and rocked her back to sleep like it had been the most normal thing in the world. When he had checked if everything was alright, Felicity had been sitting in the rocking chair with a sleeping Sara in her arms. And she had told him how Oliver and she had discussed kids and how maybe one day far in the future she would be a mom, too.

But now she wouldn’t be. She would never be a mother.  
She would never get married.  
She would never do anything anymore.

John lifted Sara into his arms and sat down in the rocking chair, cradling the sleeping girl close to his chest.

And for the first time in three days he allowed himself to just cry, mourning the loss of his sister and friend and partner. He had planned on walking her down the aisle. And now she was just dead.

 

 

Oliver didn’t understand how this had happened. He didn’t understand how any of this had happened. How had Felicity just died?

She had been healthy. The only unhealthy except for her love for strong coffee had been that stupid headache. But people didn’t die from headache.

People died because they were sitting in a basement of an old building during an earthquake like Felicity had done during the Undertaking.  
People died because they took a bullet for someone like Felicity had done for Sara.  
People died because they were kidnapped by super-villains who held swords to their throats and threatened to kill them like Slade had done to Felicity.  
People died because they tried to take down a villain and his league of assassins like Felicity had done when she and the team had come to Nanda Parbat to get him out of there.  
People died because criminals were shooting a bunch of bullets at them like Damien Darhk had done to Felicity last year.

All of those occasions could have killed Felicity. But she had survived. Over and over again.

But people did not die from a headache. They just didn’t.

Oliver pushed his hand into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out the small velvet box he had been carrying with him all the time since they had bought what was inside. With shaking fingers he opened the box.

They had picked two perfectly simple white-gold rings without any unnecessary decorations.

He took the bigger ring from the box and put it onto his finger. When John was coming back tomorrow, he was going to give him the smaller one. Felicity should wear it. The fact that they hadn’t been married by law did not mean that they hadn’t been married by heart. Because they had been married by heart for a long time already.

Oliver let his head fall forward.

He had meant to say those words in his wedding vow, but now she wasn’t going to hear those. She wasn’t going to hear anything anymore.

And the only person to blame was he himself. If he hadn’t left her alone, if he had realized sooner that Felicity wasn’t alright, he could have saved her. But he had decided to cook that damn soup, and while he had been dancing through the kitchen happily, enjoying the domestic bliss and celebrating the magnificence of the slow cooker, Felicity had died.

He could have helped her. He could have-

Oliver groaned quietly when he heard the knocking at the door. The last days a bunch of people had showed up here. John had sent them all away. But Oliver had sent John home, so there was nobody to tell the people to just leave him the hell alone. He would have to sit through the knocking and hope whoever wanted to bother him was going to leave.

Had someone taken care of the wedding? It needed to be canceled. People needed to know that-

“Oliver?” he heard a voice from outside the door.

It took him a while until he realized that it was Curtis. Had John or someone else already talked to him and asked him to take Felicity’s place on the team, so he could feel the void she would leave?

Like anyone could replace her!

“Oliver, I- I had to-“ Curtis’ voice broke off, and even through the closed door Oliver could hear him taking in a deep breath. “I had to get something from the safe in her office, and I- uhm- I- I found a letter that is addressed to you, and I thought- I thought maybe you wanted to have it, so I will just- uhm- I will just slid it through under the door- and… Yeah, I guess you want to be left alone, so…”

Only when he was sure that Curtis had left, Oliver dared to turn his head and look to the floor in front of the door to the penthouse. His breath hitched at the sight of the envelope that was lying there.

Felicity had left him a letter? Why would she leave him a letter? She hadn’t committed suicide. She had died unexpectedly. Or wasn’t it a farewell letter? Had she kept her wedding vows there? And if she had, should he read them? He wasn’t sure if he would survive that. Reading what she had planned on saying to him for their wedding when they were never getting the chance to get married…

Before he knew what he was doing, he was already on his bare feet, walking over to the door. He stayed in careful distance to the envelope like it could explode at any second.

Curtis had been right. The envelope had his name written on it in Felicity’s even handwriting.

Did he want to know what was in there? Oliver wasn’t sure. But he couldn’t ignore it. He had always had an open ear if Felicity had wanted to talk to him. So if she had taken the time to write him a letter, he needed to bring up the strength to read it. No matter what.

Oliver’s heart was beating like crazy when he bent down and picked the envelope up from the floor. He dropped back into the cushions of the couch before he opened it with shaking hands and took out the paper in it. He had to swallow hard and take a deep breath to gather the strength it required to unfold the paper and start reading what Felicity had handwritten for him.

_Dear Oliver,_

_If you receive this letter, I am probably dead. – Wow! That is so cliché. I can’t believe I actually wrote that. I wrote like a hundred letters like this one to you before, always exchanging them against a different one when I thought I had found better words or when things between us had changed. But none of those letters has started this cliché! And now I feel like I am babbling. Did you know one could babble on paper? I would have never thought that. Maybe I should start all over again… although… maybe the babble will at least get a little smile out of you._

It didn’t get a smile out of him. He wasn’t smiling. Although he could almost hear her babble the words, he didn’t feel like smiling. Not after what had happened.  
And he did know that babbling was also possible in written form. Felicity even babbled in text messages on the phone. Well, she had babbled in text messages, he corrected himself.

When he felt new tears welling up in his eyes, he returned his attention to the letter in his fingers.

_When I joined you in the Arrow Cave, it was my intention to only stay until we saved Walter. That had been what joining you and John had been about. All I wanted to do was to save Walter._

_Until I was told that I am having an aneurism. The doctor told me it was like a time bomb in my brain. Sometimes aneurisms ruptured soon, sometimes they ruptured after a long period of time, and sometimes they didn’t rupture at all.  It’s complicated to explain, and I don’t want to bore you with medical facts, but long story short, my choices had been living with that time bomb inside of my brain or undergo surgery._

_Do you remember what you said to me when I told you that I couldn’t be a team member any longer after Darhk shot at me? You said my superpowers were in my brain. The surgery could have damaged my brain. I didn’t want to live with that. I didn’t want to give up what constitutes me… Well, constituted, I guess._

_So I chose to use whatever lifetime I would have left to do good. And working with John and you and now with Thea and Laurel has felt like the right way to do so. My life had had a termination date, so why not using the time I had to help people in the city, no matter what dangers I would have to face doing so? You inspired me to do that, and for that I will always be grateful. You gave my life a meaning, a higher purpose in some way (and yes, I do know this sounds crappy, but it is how it feels)._

_I know just leaving you alone without any warning doesn’t seem like the right way to show my gratitude, but falling in love with you has never been part of my plan. Hurting you has never been part of my plan. But once I fell in love with you and got my hopes up, I didn’t want to deny myself your love. So I let it happen, but I didn’t want us to live in the constant fear that I might die. I wanted us to have a normal life, as much as playing superheroes can be considered normal._

_It was my life and my choice._

_I just need you to know how amazing knowing and loving you has been. You gave me something I never thought I would get. You changed my life in a million ways. You inspired me to do good. You helped me finding trust in the world and..._

_I can’t name all the reasons and ways you made my life so much better, but I need you to know that you did because it is something you need to continue doing. You need to continue inspiring people the way you inspired me._

_Because you, Oliver Jonas Queen, are not only the love of my life but also my personal hero._

_Please don’t hate me for not telling you. I thought it would be better for both of us._

_And whatever happened – whether I died because of the aneurism or because of anything else – you need to know that it wasn’t your fault._

_My life. My choice. Remember?_

_I wish I was better with words and be able to say more meaningful things. But this is as good as I am able to do it right now. Maybe the next version that I will write as your wife will be better._

_I love you_

No name.

Oliver folded the letter and pressed it to his chest.

So it hadn’t been just a headache.

But it didn’t make it better. Nothing would.

 

 

They had waited while the earth had been put back into the grave. As soon as Quentin had led a crying Donna away, Thea turned around to her friends, not letting go of Roy’s hand that she had been holding during the entire funeral.

“I can’t believe he didn’t show up,” she said, shaking her head and wiping some tears from her cheeks. “She is wearing a wedding band that matches the one he has put on. They are in some way married. He should have been here. And he would have needed this.”

“I don’t think Oliver is ready to accept Felicity’s death yet,” John explained, shaking his head and pulling Lyla closer to his side. “They have been supposed to get married today. Burying the love of your life is already bad, but burying her the same day you were supposed to get married is just cruel.”

“I wish we could have chosen a different date,” Laurel explained, “but…”

John nodded. “I know. We just need to be patient with Oliver. None of us is okay with what happened, and we will all need time before we will get better. And so does Oliver. We shouldn’t urge him to feel anything he isn’t ready to feel yet.”

“But-“

Thea’s voice broke with a sob and she turned to Roy, hiding her face at the side of his neck. He legs were shaking, and Roy had to put his arms around her to keep her on her feet. He exchanged a meaningful look with John before he led Thea away.

Laurel, Lyla and John stayed at the graveside.

“I still can’t believe she didn’t tell anyone about this,” Laurel said after a while, shaking her head, “not even Oliver or her mother.”

“I read the letter,” John stated. “Felicity didn’t want people to worry. She wanted to use her time to do good.”

“She did,” Lyla and Laurel said in chorus.

John nodded. “She did.”

Oliver waited until they left and the graveyard was completely empty before he stepped out from where he had waited behind some trees for the funeral to end.

He had wanted to come. He had put on a suit and come here, but then he had seen all the people already there, and he hadn’t been able to sit down next to Felicity’s crying mother and…

So he had stayed in the shadows of the trees, watching the love of his life being buried while their friends and families were crying for her.

Oliver went down onto his knees next to the grave and took in a deep breath.

“Hey,” he whispered barely audible. “Sorry, I didn’t come by sooner. It’s…unforgivable. Even if I haven’t been in Bali. I would never go there without you.”

He tried to manage a small smile, but he could feel that it ended in a painful grimace, so he just took a deep breath and swallowed down the lump in his throat. He had prepared words to say to her and only her.

“I got your letter, and I want to tell you that I understand why you did what you did. And I don’t hate you. I could never hate you,” Oliver explained and took in another deep breath. “I… uhm… since today was actually meant to be a different day, I thought I should…”

He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in deeply. When he had knotted his tie and prepared the words he had felt he needed to tell her, he hadn’t been sure whether or not he would be able to get out any sound. Hearing his voice was strange now because it sounded like the voice of a stranger, but at least he was able to say something even though it was hard to get them out.

“Okay,” Oliver said, nodding quietly. “Felicity. I- I had a whole speech planned out, but now that it is only us I think I will improvise.”

When he had written his wedding vows, and he had written a lot of versions, he had always kept in mind that they weren’t alone. This was not how he had supposed to vow to her his undying love and faithfulness. This had never been supposed to happen. He had never been supposed to bury her.

“God, Felicity,” Oliver whispered, his eyes welling up with tears. “How could you not tell me and just leave me alone? How could you just-?”

His voice broke. He had tried to understand what had driven her. He believed to understand it in some ways, but he…

He couldn’t do this. He just couldn’t.

Felicity couldn’t be dead. People died and undied in their lives all of the time. Why was Felicity not allowed to have that miracle? Why couldn’t she just wake up, so he could get married to her officially and take her to Bali where they could stay for the rest of their lives, watching sunsets and having beach sex?

Oliver pulled the page that held the wedding vow and that he had ripped out of his journal where he had tried different words to write the perfect wedding vow from the inside of his suit jacket. He pushed some of the earth on the grave aside and put the paper to it before moving the earth back, burying his vow.

He couldn’t accept her death. And he wouldn’t.

The Lazarus Pit might be gone, but there had to be other ways.

“I will find a way to get you back, Felicity,” he said grimly. “You will not stay here. I will get you back. I won’t rest until I find a way.”

Oliver straightened up, turned around and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear anon,  
> thank you so much for that prompt! You might have seem that I took a lot of liberties with it, but I hope you like it nonetheless. This was one of the best prompts I ever got, and altough I am not sure if I managed to write it as well as I hoped I would, I am quite satisfied with the outcome! So thank you very much! :)
> 
> If anyone else got prompts (fluff or angst, dialogue-only or not) always send them to my askbox and I see what I can do!


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